Totally Open Mic

If I can be naked in front of strangers, I sure as fuck can sing in front of them. 

Last year, Martin and I sang at our favorite local pub’s open mic night—sure, it was nearly closing time and there were all of three people in the bar, but we sang.  Publicly.  In front of others.   It was...a triumph!   And we wanted to do it again.  We’ve been learning and rehearsing songs all this time, but life...well, life has a way of giving you hairpin turns (now we’re going THIS way!).   So we haven’t been back to sing in quite a long while.   And we talked about that, how we’ve been letting other events and tiredness take over, and we decided, no, we are not going to let the wreckage of the day plow us under anymore.   If we both want to go, we’re going to go. 

So we went this past Saturday.   Signed up in the book.   Darcy and Pete were hosting and they asked us if we wanted to go up earlier than we thought (there being a few names before us), so we said, sure!   The sound system took some finagling, but we opened with "Coin-Operated Boy" by The Dresden Dolls, one of our signature songs, with me singing.   Had to find my footing with the reverb of the mike being so strong, but I did.   We then did four more songs, I sang “White Rabbit” and he sang “A Pirate Looks at Forty”, “The Man Who Sold the World”, and “Hurt”.   He did incredibly well, his voice rich and deep like a damn good cup of coffee.   We were slightly distracted by the sound adjustments, not really knowing if we were supposed to start or wait, so we were a bit awkward in parts, and we didn’t vamp before we began or between songs (Darcy said to us with a grin, "you have to make love to the mic!").  We want to work on our banter.  We even are thinking of bringing some of the natural comedy element between us into it, like Burns and Allen.  All in due time, naturally. 

But singing!  It felt so incredibly free to sing.  Even though not many people were visibly listening, and I could hear lots of conversation going on, I didn’t care.  I was truly doing this for myself, because I love to sing.  Every intonation, every note was a spontaneous act of creation, of sound coming out of my body.   Every word, a choice of how I was going to sing it, and how long to hold the note, and in what key.   I was in control.  Even when Martin played a random off-chord, I didn’t break character.   I didn’t care (at long last!).   I was performing.   And I liked the way I sounded.  And I liked the way I felt.  

And it was the same way I feel when I’m acting or speaking publicly or dancing or figure modeling—people are watching me as I create something spontaneously with my body alone.    This is completely different than when I do a picture, because I do that on my own, without an audience, and people see the shining, finished product.  I’ve usually worked out the kinks and show them only what I want them to see—something that’s done already, to my satisfaction.  They usually love it, and I get a lot of kudos and verbal pats on the shoulder for being a talented artist--which I love, don’t get me wrong.   But performing!  It’s such a different animal!   It’s creating on the spot, out of thin air, right before an audience’s eyes.  It’s co-creating with the musicians who are accompanying you.   And no matter how much you rehearse, there’s always the unexpected element—happy accidents!—and  you have to improvise and try not to break character.   And goddamn, it’s a risk.   Something could go wrong.   And holy fuck, it’s a rush!   When you open yourself up to the fire, it burns a line right through you, up your spine and out the top of your head, and you are aflame with power.   It’s unlike anything I’ve ever known before in everyday life.

This whole performing thing has been about self-discovery for me.  Ever since I first started acting back in 1998, I knew that all my life I had been burying something in me that wanted to be born--I'd always thought I was too shy, too introverted to be a performer.  Then I wanted to sing with my jazz peeps after I moved to Glendale and saw them do their thing.  I made half-hearted attempts, but was too awed by their professional musicianship.   Like I was in kindergarten and they had PhDs, and they'd just pat me on the head after hearing me sing and say, "Here's a quarter, kid, go get an ice cream cone..." None of them felt that way, but I imagined it.  And I let it stonewall me.  And now...at open mic, we are all just jamming, having a blast together.  Some people have a ton more experience at making music than I do, but they’re all-inclusive, and it’s all about the shared experience, and I need that.  Sweet and Hot, at the lobby jams with my jazz peeps, was the same way, but I wasn’t ready then.  I worried about the quality of my voice, if I could keep up with the pros.  

But that was before I began figure modeling. 

Once you take your clothes off in front of people you don’t know, you really CAN do anything else in front of them, too.